“We’ll set it up,” she said, going for another stick.

He let her eat it and take another sip of beer before he went for it.

“Emme, that guy, McFarland, what’s up with him?”

She tipped her head to the side. “What’s up with him?”

“Where’d you meet him? How long you been seein’ him?”

“He works at the lumberyard so I met him three years ago. But we’ve only been seeing each other for about four months.”

That coincided with the reports.

“Why do you wanna know?” she asked.

He studied her before he asked back, “Straight up?”

He watched her face grow wary even though she answered, “Yeah.”

“Don’t got a good feelin’ about that guy.”

“Why?” she queried, her voice lower, softer but her eyes never leaving him.

He couldn’t tell her why.

All he could say was, “Got a feelin’ in my gut, Emme, I always follow it. He doesn’t give me good vibes. Four months, you must be into him. I’m sorry, babe. But I gotta tell it like it is.”

“We aren’t serious,” she shared.

At least there was that, and Deck didn’t allow himself to process how much relief he felt about it, and not just because of the investigation.

“You exclusive?” he asked.

“Well,” her eyes slid away, not embarrassed, evasive. She looked back to him. “He is. I’m unsure. Though, that said, that doesn’t mean he isn’t the only one. He is. It’s just that I’m not sure I want to make that official.”

And there was that. She was loyal but she was unsure.

More relief.

“Promise me, keep thinkin’ on him ’til you come up with the right answer.”

After that, she held his gaze and again did it direct and steady. “Okay, Jacob. I’ll keep thinking on him.”

He hated doing it, and she found out he was working this, she’d be pissed he did it but he had to do it. For her and for the job.

“Is there a reason you wanna share why you’re unsure?” he asked.

Her eyes again lit with activity. She was thinking on this.

Then she stated, “No. I… well,” she grinned, “I think it’s my gut too.”

Dead end with that, McFarland was giving her bad vibes but nothing to pinpoint. But at least, when they brought McFarland and his crew down, she hadn’t shared anything with him not knowing why he was asking and he hadn’t pressed her to do it.

Better, she was sensing the red flags and didn’t like them.

“Always listen to your gut, Emme,” he advised.

“Right, Jacob,” she said, still grinning.

“No joke. Can’t say this guy is bad news, not for sure. But can say, I don’t like him with my girl. He’s yours. I been in his presence not five minutes. You gotta make your choice and I hope, tonight, us findin’ out we’re near, this won’t end.”

He gestured between them and saw her eyes warm, her face get soft, the dimple come out even just through a grin so he knew, thank f**k, this wouldn’t end.

He kept talking.

“So you like the guy, your gut gets sure, he’ll never know I didn’t like him for you. That’s your choice. Just sayin’, careful.”

“I’m always careful, honey,” she told him, and what was done to her at the age it was done, she would be. Maybe too much.

He just hoped she stayed that way.

For at least another week.

“Good,” he murmured.

She dipped her head to the plate between them. “You gonna eat the last stick?”

“All yours,” he told her and she went for it.

When she was done chewing, swallowing and sipping more beer, he again went for it.

Leaning into his arms on the table, he grinned and demanded, “Now, Emmanuelle, tell me about this house you are no doubt totally f**kin’ up seein’ as you have no clue what you’re doin’.”

Her entire face lit with her low chuckle, she leaned toward him into her arms and she complied.

Chapter Four

Two Days

His flashlight lighting the way, Deck moved through the snow, dense pine and aspen. He had his gun at his hip, his flashlight in hand and a canister of Mace at his other hip.

There were bears in those woods and if he encountered one, he wouldn’t want to put bullets in it. Not because he didn’t want shots heard, but because it would be a crime against nature to bring down such a magnificent beast.

A bear would, however, survive a dose of Mace.

His phone vibrated at his ass, he pulled it out and looked at the display.

In place.

Chace was set.

He’d picked Chace up in town. Chace had dropped him at the road down from Emme’s place and taken off in Deck’s truck. They left Chace’s Yukon in town because they didn’t want to leave a vehicle on a road close to Emme’s house. If Chace managed to keep the tail, he’d send a car to pick up Deck when Deck finished his business.

Deck’s thumb moved over the screen and he sent back, Copy.

He was about to put his phone back in his pocket when it vibrated in his hand and he saw the display said “Emmanuelle calling.”

Seeing her name on his phone sent warmth through his gut.

Seeing it on his phone after ten at night when he’d left her about half an hour ago and with all the shit going down around her made his warm gut tight.

Fuck.

He stopped, took the call and put the phone to his ear.

“You okay?” he asked as greeting.

“I forgot about Chace,” she replied.

At her words, his body got tight.

“What?” he asked.

“In all the talk about life, my house, your house, which, by the way, if I don’t get an invitation to see it and drink your homemade beer, and soon, I’ll be peeved, and you giving me stick about my Bronco, I forgot to ask about Chace.” Her voice dipped lower. “Been around these parts a while, honey. I heard what happened to him and his then girlfriend, now wife. Are they good?”

His body loosened.

“Since they’re good and the proof of that bein’ the fact that Faye’s heavily pregnant and Chace is actin’ like he’s the first man who’s ever gonna be a daddy on this earth—in other words, he’s over the goddamned moon he knocked up his wife—givin’ you stick about your desecration of God’s vehicular gift to all mankind, the operative part of that word bein’ man, took precedence over discussing Chace and Faye.”